


Just Cookies

by Becci Barnes (BeccEEE)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Cuddling, M/M, Mulled wine, Sharing secrets, SteveTony, Stony - Freeform, Talking About the Past, a little fluff, late to the party i know, not cuddling, not-christmassy cookies, steve is drawing, tony is inventing, tonys workshop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 20:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22004044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeccEEE/pseuds/Becci%20Barnes
Summary: Everyone leaves the Avengers Tower for Christmas. Except for Steve, who has nowhere to go, and Tony, who hates Christmas...
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 92





	Just Cookies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [addi_miip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/addi_miip/gifts).



Steve watched as the black car rolled off the lot and into the constant stream of New York cars. From his place at the kitchen table, he could still clearly see the car slowly moving forward in the dense Christmas traffic seven floors below him. Behind a building, the driver pulled over and disappeared from Steve's view, along with the car. This made Bruce the last person to leave their common residence. For a long time he had been hesitating whether to accept the surprising invitation of his old friend Betty Ross. In the end, he had decided to do so at short notice and was now on his way to Virginia.

Unlike Bruce, Clint and Natasha had bypassed the crowded streets and had left a few days ago. Steve had no idea where they were going. He also didn't know if they were heading for the same destination or if they were only sharing a part of the route. As far as Steve knew, neither of the two had families to visit over the holidays, but Steve had to admit that his knowledge about the private backgrounds of his team was limited. The few months they had been living together in the tower had not been enough to reveal all the secrets of the former SHIELD spies. Steve could not blame them. He himself still kept a lot of secrets that he would not easily entrust to anyone. Steve liked his colleagues, would even call them friends by now, and knew that he could rely on them in every life-or-death battle. But somehow it was different to tell them what really moved him on the inside, than to watch their backs in battle.  
  


Steve blinked in surprise when he realized that he was still looking down at the street. But by now he could only make out the alternating pattern of red and white lights moving haltingly through the darkness. Once again Steve had lost himself in his own thoughts and had forgotten the time. For a change, there was no schedule for him to stick to, but something in him was reluctant to sit at the kitchen table and stare out the window all day. He had the entire Avengers Tower to himself, he could do whatever he wanted.  
  
With the vague idea in his head to let off steam at the punchbags in the gym, Steve got up, but before he even reached the elevator, his motivation was gone. He worked out every day, unless the city needed to be rescued. It had simply become a habit that he didn't question anymore, but right now it seemed inappropriate. When had all of them ever left the Tower? Why should he pass up the rare opportunity he was given to do something he always did anyway. What did other, normal people do when they had the night off?  
  
Maybe Steve should ask JARVIS to turn up the music to dance wildly through all the rooms. Steve hadn't even finished the thought before he already dropped it. Even in his mind he already felt ridiculous about it. He couldn't dance, and certainly not to the modern music of the 21st century. Steve had no doubt that JARVIS could play him songs from the forties, but even that didn't seem very appealing to him. Indecisively he stood in front of the elevator and thought. He could take a look at Clint's extraordinary collection of movies, after all he still had plenty on his list that he had to catch up on. But he didn't want to touch Clint's belongings without having asked and actually he didn't feel like hanging around alone in front of a TV all night long.

The minutes went by and Steve came to no result. Restlessness was growing in him. He didn't know what to do with himself, and if it went on like this, he would stare at the elevator button all night long. He knew that nobody was expecting him, but somehow that was part of the problem. Ever since he woke up from the ice a few months ago, he'd been surrounded by people. At first, it had been SHIELD staff and agents who had taken him under their wing. After the fight against the Chitauri, Tony had reconstructed the Tower into a Headquarters where agents and avengers came and went and where it was usually difficult to be alone for more than ten minutes, even if you tried.

Tony.

The word had been washed into his brain along with the stream of Steve's considerations, but as the other thoughts left his head piece by piece, the word had got stuck in his brain convolutions. He was not alone at all. Steve didn't know how he could have forgotten, but Tony hadn't gone to any friends or distant relatives either. The few he considered friends were with their respective families and Tony had no relatives expecting him for Christmas dinner. Steve, whose friends and family were all left behind in the forties, could not help but notice a certain analogy between their both situations.

He shifted his weight from one leg to the other and then back again before making a decision. He pushed the button on the elevator, whose doors slid open immediately. No one had used the elevator since Steve himself went up a couple of minutes ago. The elevator took him safely to the floor where his own apartment was and Steve unlocked the apartment door. Without switching on the light he groped around on the table next to the entrance, found what he was looking for and pulled his sketchbook into the brightly lit hallway. As he locked the door again and stepped back into the elevator, he held the little black book tightly in his hands. Maybe this was a stupid idea. Maybe he should turn around right now and go back to watching movies all night. Nevertheless, he pressed the button for the fourth basement floor and the elevator started moving.

When the doors reopened Steve hesitantly stepped out of the elevator and in front of a glass wall. He could see blue lights moving through the room behind the thick pane, but he couldn't figure out what Tony was working on there. Certainly it was a very important project, and he would only disturb Tony. There was a reason why he had set up his workshop so far away from everything else and why only a few selected people knew the access code. Steve looked at the projection of a keypad on the glass in front of him. He did not know the code.

Before he could change his mind again, he raised his hand and knocked against the glass door. There was most likely loud and noisy music playing on the other side of the soundproof glass and Tony couldn't hear him at all. And as focused as he was working, he probably wouldn't even notice Steve. He could just turn around and go and nobody would know he had been here. But to Steve's surprise, Tony lifted his head and looked at him. For a few seconds they stared at each other through the glass, Tony surprised, Steve nervous. Then Steve saw Tony saying something and the door swung open to the inside. Contrary to Steve's expectations, no music was playing on the other side of the window and it remained silent.

Before he spent too much time awkwardly standing on the threshold of Tony's workshop, Steve stepped in. He closed the door behind him, mostly to have an excuse to avoid eye contact for a few more seconds. When he could not delay it any longer, he saw that Tony had not moved from the spot but was looking at him with a strange expression on his face.

Steve opened his mouth and as if Tony had just been waiting to interrupt him, he said, "What are you doing here? Don't you have a whole floor of sports equipment all to yourself?"

Steve looked at him accusingly. It was typical that Tony was spreading mockery and cynicism with every spoken sentence and Steve had expected no less. Normally he would have replied with a mean joke, saying something about being physically far superior to Tony even without regular training, but he swallowed his anger. After all, it was Christmas and actually he had come down here for another reason.

"I actually wanted to ask you if I could have a seat here."

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Here? What do you want in my workshop? You don't know anything about technology. I'm glad I managed to explain the use of a cell phone to you."

Steve shook his head. "I just want to sit here and do a little drawing." He held up the sketchbook he had brought with him for clarification. "I won't bother you or even talk to you for my sake."

Tony's eyebrows rose even higher, but then he consented. "Fine, go ahead." He shrugged his head in the direction of the sofa in a corner and turned back to his project, not without adding a muttered "for whatever reason".

"I heard that," said Steve as he made his way through the various workbenches and parts of cars and armor.

"I know," Tony replied without turning back to him.

Steve pushed aside a small rolling cabinet to make way to the sofa, which apparently served as a storage space like everything else in this room. Carefully he picked up the pieces lying on the seat and moved them to the closest table. He recognized screwdrivers and various metal parts, cut cables and one or two green circuit boards. "Careful with those! They cost more than your shield" Tony yanked the circuit board out of his hand and placed it carefully on another pile. Steve bit his tongue to swallow his comment. It wasn't the money Tony cared about, he had more than enough of that, he just wanted to reprimand Steve. And Steve didn't want a dispute, he just wanted to sit here and draw, so he kept his temper. As he sprawled on the now vacated sofa he wondered again if it had been a mistake to come down here. Tony didn't want him here and actually Steve could live without his biting remarks. But it was Christmas, and for Steve this had always gone hand in hand with company. It was the holiday of love, so it was a good time to step out of your comfort zone. Steve had done it when he came down here, now it was up to Tony to accept his presence here too.

Steve opened his sketchbook and let his eyes wander through the room in search of inspiration. He got stuck on Tony again. The mechanic had turned his back to him and seemed to be working eagerly again, even though Steve couldn't see on what. With a draftsman's detail-loving eye, Steve saw Tony's hair curling in his neck, his head slightly tilting as he thought, and the muscles moving under his T-shirt. By the time Steve noticed that he was staring shamelessly at Tony, he had been looking far longer than was appropriate. Fortunately, Tony wasn't easily distracted from his work and Steve quickly searched for something else to draw before Tony could turn towards him.

On a nearby table lay one of the Iron Man helmets. It was probably an older model because the edges were harder and the shape did not fit the Iron Man Steve knew. But it offered an excellent still life and Steve placed his pencil on the paper. For a while, all you could hear in the workshop was the soft hum of Tony's technology and the gentle scratching of Steve's pencil. And even though it was so quiet, or maybe because of it, Steve found it extremely difficult to concentrate. He couldn't get rid of the thought that he was unwanted here and at the same time it was not an option for him to go upstairs and spend Christmas Eve all alone in a tower that was far too big and far too empty.

He didn't want to bother Tony and tried to be as quiet as possible, but he still felt how awkward the situation became for Tony as well. The more minutes went by, the thicker the air in the workshop seemed to get. Steve couldn't help but notice how strange the situation was. Although he and Tony weren't enemies, and they had pulled themselves together after their first successful mission in New York, they only had rarely contact with each other outside the missions. They could work together, rely on each other, but nothing more. Steve would not even go so far as to call Tony a friend. They just weren't close enough for that.

And yet the two of them were sitting here now, with only each other as company. And it was getting more uncomfortable minute by minute. But Steve had always been stubborn. He would just keep sitting here, continue drawing the picture and wait for them both to get used to it. It was like a pain that you had to endure, that needed to get worse before it could subside.

"Listen, I want to make this very clear" Tony had suddenly turned back to Steve, who looked up from his book with surprise. Around Tony's right arm lay blue illuminated figures that simulated an Iron Man suit, and around him various displays were floating in the air. "I don't know what you had in mind when you came down here, but I'm definitely not the right person for a Christmas in cozy intimacy."

Steve stared at him and quickly tried to find an answer, but Tony continued talking before Steve could even articulate a single word.

"Look around, does all this look christmassy to you? I hate Christmas. I don't want to celebrate it, not with you, and not with anyone else."

Steve raised his hands in defense. "I never said I wanted to celebrate Christmas with you. I really don't care what you're doing here, whether it's festive or not, whether I understand it or not..." He gulped before he went on speaking. " This is the first Christmas for me since I woke up from the ice... I just don't want to be alone." It was hard for him to say these last words, especially to Tony. But he had always believed that honesty was the best way to get on in life.

Tony's eyes narrowed as he watched Steve. But then his face relaxed a little. He pointed a finger at Steve. "If you ask Jarvis to play Christmas songs, I'll throw you out." Steve nodded and could not help but grin. "No Christmas decorations either," Tony added, just to be on the safe side.

"Agreed."

The tension in the room had eased. It wasn't the casual working next to each other that Steve had wished for, but he no longer had the feeling of being suffocated by discomfort. He returned to the helmet that served as his motif and began to add the shades. He wondered what had made Tony develop such an aversion to Christmas. But he knew he could never ask him and perhaps he did not really want to know the answer. If there was one thing he had learned during their brief time of being colleagues, it was that Tony Stark was sensitive when he was confronted with his secrets. Steve wondered how much he was hiding behind his mask of eccentric behavior, and he was tempted to ask Tony about it. But he would beware of doing so in a room where the Iron Man armor and Jarvis were behind him in seconds. Steve was sure that he would be able to deal with Tony in a fight on equal terms, but the workshop was unknown territory for Steve. Who knew, what kind of equipment Tony had in his storage besides his armor. Steve thought that against Tony with all his technique he would probably lose out. And actually he didn't want to provoke a fight, especially not at Christmas. Admittedly, they had got off on the wrong foot somewhat, and even now they clashed more often than he liked, but an unnecessary physical confrontation wouldn't change that.

Steve drew one last line and examined his finished artwork. It looked like the helmet on the table. Since he started drawing regularly again, his pictures became steadily better, and he was almost back to the level he had 70 years ago.

Steve put his sketchbook down on the table in front of him and dared to take another look over to Tony. While Steve had been drawing, he had changed his place. He was now sitting at one of the big tables that looked more like switchboards and Steve could see his face in profile. The blue light from the screens illuminated his concentrated wrinkled forehead and intensified the glow emanating from the Arc Reactor in Tony's chest. Intrigued, Steve watched the light reflections play across Tony's dark hair as Tony typed with nimble fingers on the holographic keyboard in front of him. Too late Steve noticed that he had started staring again.

"Is there a problem?" Tony asked and Steve winced.

"No, I..." As he quickly avoided Tony's gaze, he frantically tried to come up with an excuse that didn't sound entirely ridiculous.

"I just wanted to ask you if you want something from upstairs. Coffee or anything? I was just about to get something myself." Steve pressed his lips together while waiting for Tony's answer. He was convinced that his excuse was absolutely predictable, but either Tony didn't notice or didn't care.

"Yes, I'd love a coffee. Black, no sugar. Leave the door open, so I don't have to let you back in." Steve nodded and got up from the sofa. He expected that Tony would immediately return to his project, but instead his eyes followed Steve until he had passed the glass door and disappeared into the elevator. Steve shook his head to repress the distracting feeling of being watched.

In the kitchen, Steve just shoved a cup under Tony's high-tech coffee machine and pressed start. While the machine was heating up the water, Steve searched the cupboards until he finally found the object of his desire. A last bottle of mulled wine had been hiding behind several bottles of whiskey and a bottle of gin. Steve filled a second cup with the wine and put it in the microwave for heating. Steve's mulled wine and Tony's coffee finished almost at the same time and Steve picked up one cup in each hand to carry their hot drinks downstairs. As he walked past the dining table, his glance was caught by a round metal box standing on it. He hadn't noticed it when he was sitting here earlier, but now it caught his attention. Steve didn't have to check to know what was inside. Pepper had dropped off the cookies just last night before she left for her family. Clint and Bruce had each taken a big handful of them, but the box still had to be well filled. Steve spontaneously jammed the metal box under his arm. Tony had said no Christmas music and no Christmas decorations. This did not include Christmas cookies. Especially as cookies themselves were not specifically christmassy. They could be easily made at any time of the year and if in doubt, Steve could still eat them alone.

When Steve placed the coffee cup on the desk next to Tony, the latter did not pass up the opportunity to reprimand Steve again.

"Not there! The screens are heat sensitive."

"You're welcome," Steve replied, not taking it up. He turned around and settled back down on the sofa, which groaned under his weight. With his hands on the warm cup, he stretched his legs out on the seating area and placed the cookie box on his lap. On purpose, he sat down in a way that allowed him to continue watching Tony. But when Tony suddenly got up from his desk and came towards him, Steve quickly turned his head in another direction. For a brief moment Steve thought that Tony actually wanted to sit with him. He was already about to make room for him on the couch when Tony walked past him without even looking at him. Wordlessly he began to search the shelf behind Steve. Steve resisted the urge to turn around to him but took another sip from his cup.

"Is that mulled wine?" Steve almost choked on the said mulled wine and coughed briefly and hard to prevent the hot drink from flowing into his trachea. Tony reappeared in Steve's field of vision and looked down over the back of the sofa, first in Steve's cup and then at the cookie box on his lap.

"Well, that's typical. I only get coffee and the captain gets himself the good stuff. Why are you even drinking that? The alcohol has no effect on you anyway. It's a waste of resources." He pointed accusingly with a screwdriver at Steve's mug.

"I just like the taste." justified Steve, who had stopped coughing. "Nothing like this existed in my day. Besides, you ordered coffee, so stop complaining."

"That's true" Tony gave in and let the screwdriver move towards the cookie box. "And what is this? I thought my message was clear. I don't want a Christmas party down here."

"These are not-christmassy cookies." Steve had set up a defiant face. Tony raised an eyebrow and bent down over the back of the sofa to snatch one of the objects from the box. He carefully inspected the brown circle in his hands before taking a trial bite of it.

Steve immediately realized that Pepper had thought of Tony when she was baking the cookies and had done everything right. They were chocolate cookies, as far away in flavor as possible from cinnamon, vanilla, almonds, or any other christmassy things, and she had cut out only innocuous circles. Not even the box showed any festive motifs and so the cookies passed Tony's test with flying colors.

"All right, approved," he said, shoved the rest of the cookie in his mouth and walked around the sofa. "Don't spread out like that, that's still my sofa." Steve pulled his legs up and sat down normally again to give Tony a seat. Tony let himself fall onto the couch next to Steve with verve and carelessly threw the screwdriver on the floor. "Jarvis, heat up the mulled wine." Tony called into the room and immediately got an " Of course, sir" back.

"Make sure Dum-E doesn't knock over the pot again, we only have two bottles left."

Steve couldn't help but watch in fascination as a robot, which seemed to consist of nothing more than a single metal arm with several joints, began to move. He took a bottle from one of the cupboards and wheeled into the tiny kitchen that Tony had set up down here.

"Don't stare at him like that. Dum-E always gets nervous around strangers, and when he gets nervous, he drops things."

Steve looked away at once. He didn't even question Tony's statement about shy robots. He had stopped questioning everything he didn't understand a while ago. It was sheer self-preservation when you lived and worked with Tony Stark.

They sat next to each other in silence while Dum-E rattled with glasses, ceramics and metal in the background.

"I'm sorry," Tony finally said. "I know I'm obnoxious around Christmas time and probably the last person you want to spend Christmas Eve with." His voice had lost all mockery. "Maybe next year you should ask Clint and Natasha to take you with them. You'd probably get more out of it than hanging around in the workshop with me." Steve shook his head.

"It's okay. I've never been in your workshop before." He watched Dum-E rolling in with a cup of steaming mulled wine. "And it's certainly more exciting than going to some shady SHIELD facility with them."

"Touché" replied Tony and took the drink from the robot. "Well," he held up the cup and moved it in Steve's direction. "To my workshop" Steve toasted with his cup and they both took a sip.

"The only time of the year you can drink alcohol 24 hours a day without being stared at sideways," Tony said, and took another big sip straight away. "I must admit that not everything is bad at Christmas." Steve had to grin as he looked at Tony, who was lounging on the couch, drinking mulled wine and eating cookies. No matter how much he fought against Christmas, right now he still seemed quite christmassy.

Steve knew that Tony was quite an experienced drinker. Nevertheless, the speed at which Tony emptied his cup and had it filled again by Dum-E surprised him. Steve could almost feel the alcohol calming Tony's mind. His posture became looser and also his voice lost its usual sharpness.

"Is that your sketchbook?" he asked, and before Steve could react, Tony had grabbed the book from the table and flipped through it.

"Yes, and actually it's private," Steve said, and shifted around in his seat, somewhat embarrassed. His drawings were almost entirely influenced by his feelings and his sketchbook was therefore as personal as a diary.

"But they're really good. I mean, I don't know anything about art, but I would hang these on my wall."

He held the book open to Steve and Steve recognized the Iron Man helmet he had just been working on. Without hesitation, Steve pulled the book out of Tony's hands and tore out the page with the drawing. "You know what, I'll give it to you," and he held the page out to Tony. Tony looked at him with big eyes as he took the paper. Steve smiled at him and felt strangely reminded of the forties. It was one of the good memories that made him nostalgic without making him realize all too clearly the loss of his own time.

"I used to gift drawings," he said without thinking about it. "It was the only thing I had enough of to give away. We never had much money, and most of the time it was barely enough for food. Presents just weren't in it." Tony sipped his mulled wine silently, but the fact that he hadn't interrupted Steve yet was a sign that he was listening. "Once my mother set heaven and hell in motion and bought me a used book. The Wizard of Oz. She had gotten it cheap at the dissolution of a library, and it was already really tattered. But I read that book until it literally fell apart in my hands."

The alcohol couldn't influence Steve, his fast metabolism took care of that, and yet his tongue seemed to loosen to the same extent as Tony's, who was constantly pouring down mulled wine. Suddenly Steve didn't feel weird at all sitting here with Tony and talking about personal matters. He was sure that Tony wouldn't enter the conversation, but even if he just sat there and listened, it did Steve good to get these things off his chest. And in any case it was more comfortable than sitting next to each other in silence.

"My father always had plenty of money." Steve looked over at Tony in surprise, who stared straight forward as he spoke. "I probably had the most and the best presents in town. And they got even better and more expensive with every year he spent more time working." Tony's voice had developed a bitter undertone. And Steve listened intently to his words.

It was probably the alcohol, but he had never heard Tony speak openly and honestly about his father before. Steve had known Howard Stark long before Tony had been born, but he had seen the inventor from a completely different angle. He was very curious about how his son had experienced him, but he had never dared to ask Tony about it. He knew about the difficult relationship the two had had with each other.

"He always liked to use gifts to clear his conscience. Whenever he had stayed away overnight, he would get me some new CDs. For a business trip over several days, he would drop a hi-fi system. When he missed my final project in high school, he got me a new car... Most things I have never used."

Steve didn't like how bitter Tony's voice had become, and he was trying to find something to say. But Tony lifted his cup again and said dryly: "In this sense, to the family" Steve toasted him and also drank a sip of mulled wine. Next to him, Tony emptied his drink in one go and Dum-E immediately rolled up to refill it.

"Thanks for telling me," said Steve, who had regained his voice. He looked directly at Tony, who was keeping his eyes on his cup.  
"Well, I'll probably regret this tomorrow. But just now it seemed like a good idea."  
"That's the Christmas spirit," joked Steve, grinning at Tony, whose eyebrows narrowed briefly. But then he raised his eyes and said, "Well, I guess it doesn't matter now anyway. Jarvis, turn on the Christmas lights. "  
Jarvis did not answer, but within seconds the blue light of the screens had turned into a golden shimmer and the ceiling lights had been dimmed. Steve was mildly impressed. In this light, the workshop suddenly seemed quite cozy. Still, he didn't miss the opportunity to tease Tony: "If you hate Christmas so much, why do you have a Christmas lighting protocol?"  
"Shut up" was the only answer Steve got, and he could clearly hear Tony's voice changing progressively. He wasn't babbling – not yet. But his voice had become lower and less distinct.

Tony started to shift around on the sofa, pulled up his knees, stretched them out again, turned his upper body in different directions while trying to somehow get into a more comfortable position.

"I'm sorry, I'm taking up all the space here," said Steve, and pressed himself even further to the side of the sofa to provide more room for Tony. "Oh, we'll manage that" said Tony, and Steve froze as he felt Tony's head on his shoulder without warning.

Steve had not seen this coming.

A shiver ran down his back, and yet he didn't dislike the unexpected touch. He felt Tony dragging his legs up on the seat beside him, but he didn't dare look to the right. Part of him feared that Tony might notice what he had just done and move away from him again. And he was determined to avoid that.

"If I come too close, let me know. Mulled wine always makes me a bit clingy... which, by the way, is why I never drink it in public," Tony mumbled and Steve felt the movement of his jaw against his own shoulder.

"No... it's okay," Steve replied hesitantly. "I came here because I wanted company." That was true. But when he had made that decision, he had not imagined that the evening could take such a twist. Not that he would complain about it, but he had to think about the Tony who had wanted to throw him out of the workshop just a few hours ago. The same Tony was now leaning relaxed against Steve's shoulder. And Steve didn't quite know how exactly they had gotten here.

"Oh..." Tony said, but he sounded only slightly surprised. "I didn't know you meant company in _that_ way. You could've said so earlier, we could've spared ourselves this whole preliminary skirmish." Steve snorted in amusement but a number of thoughts had just been set in motion in his head.

"Yeah, sure," he replied. "You're telling me I should have just knocked on the door and said Hey Tony, I'd like to spend Christmas Eve cuddling with you on the couch? You would have kicked me right back out again."

"Yes, I would have," Tony agreed. "And we're not cuddling."

"Of course not."

Steve listened to Tony's steady breathing close to his ear and pondered. The whole situation had come so sudden that he didn't quite know how to deal with it. He had been longing for comfort, for someone to confide in. And yes, now and then he had caught himself watching Tony and slipping into one or another daydream. But they both were so different, he had never seriously considered it. And even now he didn't really want to think about it too much. He wasn't sure how much of what Tony was doing or saying in his current state was due to the alcohol. So he pushed away all the thoughts that were spinning in his head and tried to concentrate only on the here and now. Right now, Tony Stark's head was resting on his shoulder and that was all that mattered.

Tony's breaths became deeper and slower and Steve could only just see the half-full cup in his hand beginning to tilt. With one quick movement, Steve reached for the cup and preserved the ground from a mulled wine disaster. He placed it on the table in front of them, but his abrupt movements had pulled Tony out of his light sleep.

But he seemed to take this as an opportunity to make himself comfortable without the restrictions of a half-full cup. With his eyes closed, Tony let his head sink into Steve's lap and stretched out on the left side of the sofa.

A tingling sensation ran through Steve's body as he placed his left hand gently on Tony's upper body and buried his right hand in Tony's hair.

He didn't know what they were getting themselves into here, nor how long it would last. But he knew it felt good. Without giving it any second thought, Steve lowered his head and gave Tony a light kiss on his hairline.

"Merry Christmas, Tony," he whispered.

"Merry Christmas, Steve."


End file.
